Save that it became the means so strangely
selected for my early entrance into Xtian commerce, I do not
propose to linger over the comparatively brief but effective
interview that ensued. At first refused admission, the words
Greenwich Park sent as a message by the servant sufficed to
bring Mr Lorton hastily but reluctantly and unaccompanied to the
front door. From there he conveyed us to one of the smaller and
more distant schoolrooms, and it soon became obvious, in spite
of his tentative denials, and even more despicable evasions,
that my father and myself were the complete masters of the
situation. It was true, of course, that he tried to temporize
with the pathetic bravado of the exposed sinner.

`But even if it were the case,' he said, `which I am not
prepared to admit, that I was in Greenwich Park with Mrs
Chrysostom, do you suppose that, were I to deny it, my brother
would believe you for a moment?'

Fulfilled as he was with a Xtian indignation, my father was
unable to suppress a smile.

`I imagine that at least,' he said, `he would be interested in
my son's knowledge that she was supposed to be shopping in
Kensington.'

Mr Septimus Lorton protruded the tip of his tongue in a vain
endeavour to moisten his lips.

`And he would also be interested,' I said, `to meet the lame
newspaper-seller from whom she obtained change for ten
shillings.'

My father nodded.

`That cannot often happen,' he said, `and my son tells me that
the man picked up one of her gloves.'

`Yes,' I said, `and followed her into the station with it, where
she gave him a sixpence, and he called her a pretty lady.'

My father looked thoughtfully at the tips of his fingers.

`From which I infer,' he said, `that he could probably identify
her.'

Mr Lorton passed one of his hands over the pale green surface of
his cheek.

`But, my dear sir,' he said, `my dear sir, even suppose, I say,
that without - er - prejudice, Mrs Chrysostom had so far
honoured me as to accompany me for a walk in the park you
mention, surely that is not necessarily an indiscreet act in
view of the fact that I am her husband's brother.'

Again my father smiled.

`But a brother, you must remember, whose testimonial would be
worse than useless.'

For a moment Mr Lorton glanced from side to
side with the bestial expression of a hunted rat. Then he spoke
huskily, after licking his lips again and listening for a second
or two over his left shoulder.

`Perhaps I was rather hasty,' he said, `rather hasty. In fact, I
had - er - already begun to reconsider that.'

`I am happy to hear it,' said my father.

`In fact,' said Mr Lorton, `I think something
could be done.'

My father bowed again. He was no longer smiling. I had seldom,
indeed, seen him look so grave.

`For the sake of your school,' he said, `to say nothing of your
soul, and for the sake of your brother's business, I sincerely
hope so.'

`Oh, I think so,' said Mr Lorton, `I think so. Now, let me
see. How could I be most helpful?'

My father cleared his throat.

`Deeply as I am inclined,' he said, `to
expose this iniquity to the uttermost, and irreparable as has
been its injury to my son's sensibilities, I am yet prepared to
concede you the opportunity of retaining at least the semblance
of your good name. But for my son I must claim every
guarantee. Upon my son's future your own is dependent.'

I dare not record that Mr Lorton smiled. Let me rather say that
he exposed his incisors.

My father's silence was perhaps more eloquent than any merely
verbal condemnation.

`I - er - I'll write tonight,' said Mr Lorton.

`Perhaps,' said my father, `you'd be so kind as to give us Mrs
Chrysostom Lorton's address.'

Mr Lorton hesitated.

`Oh - er - certainly,' he said. `Paternoster Towers, Enfield.'

My father made a note of this in his diary.

`We shall call upon her,' he said, `tomorrow at noon.'

Mr Lorton emitted a sort of gargling sound.

`I - er - I'll tell her,' he said. `She'll be delighted.'

Strong in the Lord, therefore, and indeed in comparatively good
spirits considering the vileness with which we had been brought
into contact, we returned home to a belated but none the less
substantial meal; and it was not until this had been absorbed
and my mother was in the scullery, cleansing the dishes that had
contained it, that my father referred again to the interview
that had been arranged for the following day.

`Although it seemed wise,' he said, `to suggest to that creature
that both you and I would be present at it, I am afraid that my
obligations to the Consolidated Water Board will, in reality,
prevent me from being there, and that you must be prepared
therefore, my dear Augustus, to face that female alone.'

I bowed my head.

`I pray that you may trust me,' I said.

With a slightly increased colour my father rose to his feet.

`I have no doubt of it,' he said. `But at the
same time - at the same time - oh, Augustus, Augustus!'

Deeply moved, he advanced two or three paces and leaned heavily
against the harmonium.

`You see, my boy,' he continued - at what a cost I could only
afterward guess - `with this interview you will be definitely
entering upon a new and most perilous phase of experience. For
the first time - I must ask you to turn down the lamp - for the
first time, as a marriageable adult, you will be called upon to
encounter, face to face, a woman of fierce and unbridled
passions.'

Here he paused for a moment and I could feel the floor shaking.

`Oh, father,' I cried. `Can I not spare you?'

`No, no,' he said. `I must see it through.'

I bent forward to steady the lamp, and at the
same time I turned it lower.